Mamma Mia
by AlphaWolfOfRed67
Summary: Dean, Mary and Cas race to save Sam from Toni. Sam slowly starts to lose his mind due to the drug that he was injected with. Can they save him before its to late? Coda- 12X01 and 12X02
1. Chapter 1

Dean, Mary and Cas race to save Sam from Toni. Sam slowly starts to lose his mind due to the drug that he was injected with. Can they save him before its to late? Coda- 12X01 and 12X02

A/N: I will finish this before the episode 'Mamma Mia'. This is just slightly AU. Just a little! Lol this is gonna be how I want them to recue him! Be warned, crappy story _ haha Will be 2 or 3 chapters!

Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean, other characters in the show, etc. But if I did, man the fun. Blah. Enjoy!

* * *

You know that feeling when you're dragged from the conscious awake to be thrown deep into a dark abyss of sleep, a blackness that swallows you, awareness lost as you're thrown in a dark pit and even then you just keep falling?

Even in that darkness you're not completely engulfed in it's confinement, even with your eyes closed and you're pulled into the deepest corners of unconsciousness, somehow, peace of mind doesn't always greet you. Instead, it could be much worse.

Your mind, rather than quiet, can become a gather of noises constantly flowing through your troubled thoughts like an echo, they seem to repeat louder and louder. It can produce memories, fragments of tormented images from a tainted past, sorrowful projection's replaying mercifully, nightmare's meant to destroy your soul with painful remembrance, reminding you of the things you wish you could forget, that, and to make your fear become a reality.

In Sam's case, it was both.

Right now, he felt that darkness drowning him in pain and despair, a feeling he's had on multiple occasions but right then was worse than any other time because all he saw was the times Dean died. He couldn't count how many times exactly it was that his brother managed to die before coming back to life, either to die again or be brought back by a supernatural force.

Mystery spot was the worse.

Each of those deaths were harder to witness because each time meant Sam had failed in saving Dean from an unfortunate and brutal death. He thought he knew pain, but when he had to watch Dean die over and over again a little piece of his soul went with him, torn by the sorrow that hit him as reality sunk in: Deans dead and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

 _Dean! Dean, please..._

Sam's broken pleas were unanswered, broken calls that went unheard as he held Dean's tattered body in his arms.

Then the scene changes,

The darkness, won't let him go.

He sees a scene unfolding before him.

Dean's face, his emerald eyes shinning with untold emotion, shoulders squared with tension but his expression remained stoic, staring at Mary's grave, swarms in front of him.

His brother could always hide his emotions, he was good at it, keeping up the brave facade, but his eyes, no matter how neutral or calm, could always reveal what Dean felt. To strangers, it was hidden, unseen, yet, Sam could always read them by a simple gaze, a locking of eyes and even then, as Dean's attention remained solid and unmoving on the head stone, he knew. The tears refused to fall but Dean's orbs were like a reflection of light, mirroring the stubborn tears that would not fall.

Dean was scared, his fear masked over with calmness.

 _"You don't have to do this,"_ was what Sam said, his voice soft but shaken. He knew that it was a suicide mission, one that would end Dean's life permanently. Please don't do this...he begged silently, pleading subconsciously.

 _"I have to."_

Just like that, the dam holding back Sam's fear burst into a million pieces and he was frozen in place. It was as if time froze along with him. He could feel his heart being squeezed with a pressure unknown, threatening to crush him with the weight of those words and their meaning. Dean's unspoken words.

 _It's the only way._

Dean's hand clasped his shoulder. A action of comfort and a silent goodbye before turning around, his hand dropping down as he walked over to Cas and the rest of them.

Sam couldn't move. Hell, he couldn't breath. Dean was going to die...again.

He see's Dean's battered face looking up at him with one eye swollen shut by Lucifer's, no, his hand. He watches Dean struggle to breath, his chest rising and falling with effort. Lucifer's hold over him broken by a single memory of the time him and Dean carved their initials under the dash board.

He hears Dean's words filled with love and devotion even though he had continued to punch him over and over again.

 _I'm here._

 _I'm right here, Sammy._

The images won't subside. They torture him without mercy, taunting him of the darker truths of a darkened past.

Dean was dead and he was never coming back and that was the darkest truth of all and it was Sam's worst fear turned reality.

He let the darkness take him because there was nothing left to take from him except the light.

* * *

Consciousness returned to him slowly and painfully, drawn out of a black oblivion with a displeased grunt. Awareness wasn't as quick, confusion and disorientation being the first sense to hit him. When he opened his eyes, finding it slightly difficult to do so, he was met with a brown ceiling, quickly realizing he was on his back and not in a chair.

Sam struggled to push himself up, the pain in his leg from the bullet and his foot from being flayed alive, shooting white hot streaks of pain through his body, almost like a hot iron poker. Hissing, he managed to sit up and looked around him to see that he was alone.

Sam sighed. How he managed to get himself into this situation, he didn't know. He did know that she was a women of letters and her name was Toni. She believed that he was a lost cause and that he failed at his job as a hunter.

Folding his leg, Sam massaged the part where his jeans were ripped open from the bullet. Gritting his teeth as the action spiked a hot flame up his thigh, he continued to rub it.

His attention went to his now bandaged foot and he remembered the agonizing bite of a blow torch ripping his skin apart, shredding away the layers as they split open, burning the flesh and almost piercing bone.

Still, it was nothing compared to Lucifer's torture methods. If the devil himself could not break him, eat away at his soul until it was nothing, he wasn't going to break for a women of letters.

Then again, he wasn't exactly whole. Not now that Dean was dead. The thought was torture enough and for a second he wished they would get on with it, send him to to the afterlife instead of playing it out. Sam knew that wouldn't happen. They wanted information and they would try everything to get it out of him. Well, he wasn't going down without a fight even if every fiber of his being wanted to die, be with Dean in the next world.

Something of warmth pulsated through his neck. Sam's eye brows came together in confusion at the weird sensation and he immediately brought a hand up to the back of his neck. He felt a small puncture would at the base of his neck, knowing exactly what it was.

A needle.

He was drugged.

Sam spotted a wire running across the ceilings support beams and followed them to their source. A camera.

They were watching him.

Dean. His brother wouldn't want him to die and not by some girl that managed to kick his ass.

No.

His brother wouldn't want him to roll over and die.

 _Come on, Sammy. Can't let a chick get the best of you. That's just embarrassing, man._

Sam grinned, a smile that didn't reach his ears, at Dean's voice in his head. "Yeah."

 _The Sam I know? He wouldn't just give up and die._

With determination and a new found strength, Sam pushed himself to stand. Struggling, he gripped the chair using it as a supportive statue, and managed to get himself half way up before throwing himself in the chair. Sam faced the camera. He wasn't going to give them what they wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

A:N- I should have mentioned this in the first chapter _ MAJOR SPOILER ALERT XD lol anyway, a slight warning,

 ** _Warning_** \- This follows the episode BUT I have changed some things so I guess it goes slightly AU- some of the things said and/or portrayed in this chapter were made up- or similar circumstances. Blah. Okay done. Lol

Will be one more chapter! Will update soon :) Thank you for the reviews/favs, follows! Yall are awesome! I will try an respond to them shortly!

Enjoy! Might be mistakes/misspellings-errors, will fix later on! Thank you!

* * *

Sam looked at the camera, staring into it with determined eyes, set on making the girls watch as he didn't falter like they were expecting but it wasn't long before he started to feel agitated. The pain hadn't subsided and seemed to intense with the passing minutes that ticked by agonizingly slow.

Biting his lip, he tried to ignore the growing heat that warmed up his body. It was as if small flames were tickling his skin, heating up his blood almost to a boiling point. Sam wasn't sure if it was from his recent injuries that had beads of sweat forming on his forehead or the substance he was injected with while he was out, whatever it was. He could feel it flowing through his veins like burning lava, infecting him with hell fire itself, swiftly riding his blood like a canoe on waves.

His already aching body shivered as a draft found its way into the small basement from the cracks of the ceiling, sweeping past him and piercing his damp clothes like sharp icicles. The coolness soaked through the material and went straight through him like ice, making him shiver harder to the point his teeth chattered. He didn't know which was worse, feeling your insides catch fire or having your body incased with a ice cold clothe. Sam's body was a mass of both.

Throwing his head back, teeth clenched, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. In and out.

Sam gasped, his neck was on fire and his head started to pound with fury and as much force of a hammer coming down on a nail. It was sudden and for a moment Sam thought his head was going to burst open with how much pressure was being applied.

He doesn't know when he moved. One minute he was in the chair and the next he had shot up to his feet and was holding his head in his hands. The chair was long forgotten and discarder on the floor, having been thrown back with the strength Sam shot to his feet. It didn't occur to him that he was standing. His attention was drawn on the massive pounding in his head and the drowned out voices that made themselves known in his head, voices that sounded like they were underwater.

Sam unconscious backed away. The pain in his leg and foot didn't register as he put unnecessary weight on them.

There was a sharp ringing that overtook the noises. Sam bent over with a gasp in emotional distress as it grew loud. With a intake of breath, his hands went from his head to his ears in a attempt to silence the ringing. Yet, it was all that he could hear.

He couldn't stop his legs from going out from under him and he fell to the cold floor to his knees. His inners burned with flames of orange and threatened to burn him from the inside out. "Gah!"

The noises were back, replacing the buzzing with a voice he hadn't heard for over thirty years but still knew who it was. She was the love of his life, the one person besides Dean that meant more to him than his own life.

Sam froze as the familiar voice spoke in sadness and betrayal. _Why Sam?_

Sam's head shot up and he was met with a white fog of smoke and the face of his girlfriend, Jessica staring at him with despair. Her eyes a hollow shell, empty of life as she burned, flames dancing around her in a harsh light and show of red. "No...Jess..." Sam reached out, desperately trying to touch her, to tell her he was sorry, his eyes wide and shinning with tears.

 _Sam. Why_? Her image started to disappear before vanishing completely leaving a dumbfounded Sam to stare in the spot she occupied, his hand still extended out towards the person he would never touch again.

Sam clenched his eyes shut at the phantom pain piercing his racing heart. Even though it was over ten years that she died Sam could still see her burning on that ceiling like it happened yesterday. Jessica's dead stare fixed on him, mouth agape, her beautiful golden hair hanging down, tears streaming down her face. It was branded into his brain to remind him of how, because of him, she was killed and it was all his fault. The demon wanted him and killed Jessica in order to set his plans in motions. If Sam didn't have demon blood in him, if he wasn't some kind of freak, Jess would have been safe.

Sam knew it was the drug coursing through his veins that was making him hallucinate, he was prepared for it, but the truth hurts. Even though he was ready for the horrible images that would no doubt plague his mind, he was not ready for just how painful and true they were.

He had got Jess killed.

 _Listen to me. It wasn't your fault._

Dean's words from then came to mind and he remembered how much determination and belief was in his brothers voice. Dean, who always thought of Sam as a person who couldn't hurt a fly. Dean, who didn't believe that his little brother was a monster, a blood thirsty killer and would kick anyone's ass who thought otherwise. Dean, who protected him and saved him more times than he could count.

Dean, who stuck by him when he went spiraling into a dark abyss of evil. He stood by him when Sam trusted a demon and used new found powers, when he relentlessly wrapped his arms around Dean's throat and proceeded to choke the life how of him, when he killed lillith and set Lucifer free. Everytime Sam found himself falling in the darkness Dean was always there to pull him up and back into the light.

Sam's chest ached at the thought of Dean. His brother was dead. He was alone, on his own. That alone broke him but he made a promise to himself that he would continue to fight.

 _Saving people, hunting things._

 _The family business._

Sam wasn't planning on letting the British women get what they wanted. Dean wouldn't, he'd be fighting to get out of there and so was he.

"This how you're going to get it out of me? Hallucinations? You're going to have to do better than that." Sam stated looking into the camera, his breath coming in pants.

* * *

The women, Toni, watched as Sam stared her down through the lens. She couldn't help the small amount of sympathy that she felt towards the Winchester. She never liked torture, especially when it could hit so close to home. She knew enough about the Winchester to know just how dark their past was and he was seeing it like a rerun thanks to the drug she gave him but her job was clear and she would get what she wanted, one way or another, even if that meant bleeding Sam dry until all his blood coating the floor in scarlet, then so be it.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon." She mumbled under her breath.

She continued to watch him with narrowed eyes.

* * *

Sam closed his eyes. Breathing was difficult. His heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was going to have a heart attack.

 _Sam. It's all because of you._

Sam jerked. Keeping his eyes shut, he swallowed thickly at the new voice. He grew up listening to it his whole life. It was the voice that soothed him when he managed to skin his knee on the playground, comforted him when he was scared because of a thunder storm. It was the thing that convinced him that living was better than dying when he came to deaths door after the trials. Filled with worry, anger and desperation, it was Dean.

Yet now, it was emotionless, taunting even as it sounded behind him.

 _Sammy. I'm dead and for what? You? Your constant need of attention because you can't do anything right. Its because of you. I'm dead, because of you little brother._

Sam jerked again, his head whipping around fast enough to give him whip flash. He sucked in a breath at seeing Dean standing before him. His expression unreadable, eyes void of emotion, locked on Sam.

Dean stood, his clothes torn and shredded stained with blood. Cuts mirrored his face. Large gashes and bruises covered his skin, skin that was almost black as coal.

Sam's breathing picked up at the sight of his broken brother. "Dean...? No..." His shoulders shook with barely controlled emotion.

Dean's head tilted to the side, orbs dark and calculating. _Why? Where did I go wrong Sam? I tried but you're a lost cause. There's no saving me. There's no saving you._

Dean's body glowed in a harsh yellow. Golden sparks of light reaching to the heavens shot out from his arms, face, chest. _You killed me, Sam_.

Sam's eyes grew large and he reached out, desperate to grab Dean as he continued to glow. So many emotions were consuming him. Fear, desperation, shock, sadness. Most of all, helplessness. "Dean!" Sam called out just as the light exploded, throwing him back to the floor.

Sam opened his eyes to find Dean was no longer there.

 _I'm dead, were all dead, because of you Sam_. Dean's voice still echoed all around him.

 _You're a freak Sam. It's you fault._

 _Your fault._

Sam stood on shaky legs. He spotted a mirror on the wall and walked over to it. The hallucinations were worse than his withdrawal and the weight of his injuries, the liquid running throughout his system, and the ghosts of the past worked as one to drag him down. Sam could feel his body start to fail with mental and physical exhaustion but he pushed himself to keep moving forward.

 _Were dead because of you_! It screamed.

Sam gripped both sides of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess of unruly strands, face pale from blood loss and pain. Dark bags hung heavily under his eyes, that were weary and tired. He looked pitiful.

"You're right." He called out, loud enough so that the women could hear him.

Its true that he believed that it was his fault. Everything happened because of him. Since being born, he was the cause of everything. Yellow eyes, Lucifer, the end of the world.

 _Truth is, we keep each other human._

 _There's no me without you._

 _How about we continue doing what we do. Fighting the good fight, kicking demon ass and going down swinging._

 _You didn't ask for the demon blood, Sam. Something isn't your fault when its something you never even wanted in the first place!_

 _You and me. We got this, Sammy._

Even so, Dean was always there to remind him that it wasn't all his fault.

Even though Dean was dead, it seems he's still reminding him of that right now.

 _Your fault._

 _All your fault._

Sam knew what he had to do.

Drawing his fist back he used what strength he did have and drove his hand into the mirror. Glass cracked and shattered, falling into the sink in pieces. Sam hardly felt the glass that had bit into his hand at the force and ignored the warm feeling of blood bubbling to the surface. His eyes were on the broken shards in the porcelain. Sam grabbed a piece of the glass and gripped it firmly in his hand. Its sharp edges scarping at his palm.

Hallucination or not, Dean's words stung worse than the glass he held onto in a death grip.

 _Just die, Sam!_

 _Why won't you die!_

 _It's your fault._

Ignoring the hurt the fake Dean caused, Sam brought the shard up to his neck.

* * *

Toni watched with dismay and disbelief as Sam place a piece of broken glass to his own neck.

She watched in horror as he moved the glass in one swift movement across before dropping to the floor in a heap.

"No." She stood and grabbed the taser from the table before going to the door of the basement and unlocking it.

With caution, she made her way down the steps.

The room stunk of blood and sweat.

Toni took a deep breath and proceeding by extending the taser rod out and towards the seemingly unconscious man on the floor. Her movements were slow and cautious. She wasn't sure if he was really unconscious, maybe dead or if that was a hunters trick. Either way, she knew she had to check. Sam was vital and she needed him alive.

Toni knew it was a mistake the moment the end of the rod touched him because with strength he shouldn't even have with how much blood he lost, he suddenly turned and knocked it out of her grasp. Her expression took one of shock as he made it swiftly to his feet and wrapped his hand around her small neck.

Sam pushed Toni back until her back touched the wall. He kept a firm hold on her neck. His furious gaze caught hers. A look of anger written across features, hazel orbs blazing.

Toni gripped his hand. She berated herself. How could she be so careless, so stupid.

Sam held up his hand revealing a long gash and fresh blood flowing from the self inflicted wound. "Maybe you're not as good at your job as you think." He stated, panting with effort.

Applying pressure, Sam watched Toni's air get cut off, her lungs being forced to be repressed as he sustained her necessity to breath. Her face started to turn red from lack of oxygen flow to her brain and her eyes fluttered and shut.

Sam, convinced that he had knocked her out completely, let go and watched her slide to the floor.

He took a deep breath, letting out a tired sigh. Sam turned around and walked towards the open door showering the basement in light, his way back to freedom, completely forgetting about the woman.

He made it two steps before he felt electricity going through his leg causing him to fall with a grunt.

Toni, who had not been unconscious, whether by the lack of strength Sam possessed or dumb luck, pulled herself to her feet and grabbed the abandoned rod from the floor. She quickly used it to taser Sam before he could make his way out and she ran past him when he went down.

Sam's hand shot out gripping her ankle causing her to lose her balance and fall. She wasted no time tasering him again making him abandoned his grip. She wasted no time getting up and trying to get away. Only Sam wasn't going to give up that easily.

He grabbed her again, desperately trying to keep her from getting out first.

Toni used a more effective way of getting him to let go by kicking him in the face, effectively disorienting him enough to make it up the stairs and on the other side of the door. She hurriedly shut it, Sam's grief stricken pleas going unheard to her as she locked the door.

"No! No!" Sam banged the door over and over again in despair, jarring his injured hand causing him to hiss in pain.

Sam allowed himself to slide a few steps down. He gripped his throbbing palm, grief and anger mingling his senses. He was so close but due to weakness Sam realized he wasn't able to fully knock her out.

He inwardly cursed.

The fight was slowly leaving him. His body ached in every part. His Head continued to pound without an ounce of sympathy. His skin was pale and clammy with sweat rolling down the sides of his face and neck. Sam's breathing came in fast strides due to fatigue and exhaustion, both mind and body shutting down without his consent.

Sam leaned his head against the wall. A sense of hopelessness washed over him. He swallowed. His throat was raw from screaming. He was completely drained of energy.

The drug that was in his system was starting to lose effect and he allowed himself to relax though he was hurting immensely.

His thoughts drifted

 _Dean...im sorry._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am so sorry O.O I was supposed to finish this story before Mamma Mia ended XD Oh well! This story is completely AU by the way XD Doesn't happen like the episode at all cuz personally IT SUCKED. I wanted much more emotion between the brothers darn it! So its happening! Lol one more chapter to go!

 _ **Warning** \- Minor cussing- Suicidal intention- Doesn't happen though- but still WARNING! _

_Enjoy ^^_

Might be mistakes- grammar, misspellings- etc- will fix when I can! Thank ya!

* * *

 _"Hey, Dean." Sam's quiet voice drew Dean's attention from the road to the passenger seat for a second._

 _"Yeah Sammy?"_

 _"So, monsters, they're real, right?" Sam asked in a low voice causing Dean to side glance curiously at him._

 _Dean regretted telling Sam the truth, the real reason why their father left for long periods of time, why it was they were not allowed to go out anywhere alone and was told to stay at whatever hotel they were out. Sam gave him the all to familiar puppy dog look that Dean never could resist._

 _Those hazel eyes filled with curiosity and trust as he looked to Dean for answers. Answers, that, in all honesty, Dean did not want to answer but he knew sooner or later the truth was going to come out and the innocence Sam still processed would be gone. Even though Dean wanted to keep the truth as far away from Sam, as long as he could, reality was sooner or later it wouldn't be enough._

 _So, what did Dean do?_

 _He told Sam EVERYTHING._

 _Dean had caved and told him about the things lurking in the world unseen and disbelieved by those who haven't a clue about the real dangers during day and night. The things best known for bedtime stories or horror films that went by lure and old folktales. Most people believed them to be just that, stories made up to scare little kids and teens. The thought that vampires or werewolves were actually roaming creatures of the night would be unrealistic and plain insane to most._

 _At least, Sam was one of those people who didn't believe it a possibility that monsters were real until he asked Dean about their fathers odd routine of moving from place to place and disappearing daily. Of course, his brother was tight lipped not budgeting at Sam's continuous curiosity about John's whereabouts, being dead set that Sam remained clueless about the things going bump in the night._

 _Finally, after hours of constant pleading and questions, he told Sam what it was that John really did while they were left at the hotel._

 _Hunting._

 _It wasn't the normal kind but something more dangerous._

 _Monsters._

 _John hunted monsters._

 _The shock of reality had Sam frozen on the spot. He was still feeling its lingering effects, his mind a constant flow of thoughts trying to rationalize what he heard that maybe Dean was lying. That maybe he just wanted to scare him into thinking the boogeyman was real but the more he thought about it, the more he just knew._

 _It was true._

 _Monsters were real._

 _As hard as it was to believe, Sam believed it._

 _Dean didn't answer right away. "Yeah, they're real but, i'll let you in on a secret."_

 _Sam gazed with curiosity at Dean's face. "What secret?"_

 _Dean sighed. He reached up a tender hand and touched the long cut going across Sam's face. It was no longer bleeding but the skin appeared angry and raw, cheeks flushed._

 _Sam flinched slightly when the action stung but he didn't move away from Dean's hand._

 _"Monsters come in all shapes and forms. Even before there was lure of wise tails about them. The worst kind of monster, " Dean paused, "is humanity."_

 _Sam scrunched his face up in confusion. Not to say he didn't understand his brothers words, because he knew full well that humans could be just as evil as any creature with claws and fangs, but because he would never understand why people could be so cruel. "I guess. Wow, Dean Winchester actually said something smart." Sam laughed trying to lighten the mood._

 _"Yeah well, I can be smart to, Samantha." Dean smirked, answering back with a nickname he knew Sam despised worse than Sammy._

 _"Don't call me that!" Sam glared at him but he sighed when he realized Dean's body language_

 _Sam noticed the way Dean's shoulders hunched, the invisible tension building up in his posture, and the silent fury in his emerald orbs that threatened to explode. Even though Dean was playing he could tell that his brother was masking anger the way he always did. Silent and non-approached as he avoided his feelings like they were never there but no matter how hard Dean hid it, Sam could always see the signs, could always tell when Dean was trying to control whatever volcano was threatening to erupt within him._

 _Dean was pissed._

 _Dean caught sight of the half swollen eye._

 _Dean narrowed his eyes, the familiar fire lighting itself a blaze inside him at seeing the damage inflicted on Sam. Sam's eye was starting to mirror the perfect purple and yellow bruise, his lip was split and small cuts were visibly seen on his neck. The thought of how they got there made his blood boil in unyielding rage. No one touched Sam and got away unscathed and the guys from upper class surely could vouch for that. They learned first hand what a pissed off Dean Winchester was capable of when you messed with Sammy. A lesson they wouldn't forget._

 _Dean probed the cut with gentle fingers. It was red around the edges where heat radiated from the broken skin. The sooner they got back to the hotel the quicker he could apply ointment to it and give Sam another look over._

 _Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's mother hen routine and lightly smacked his hand away. "I'm okay Dean." He breathed out in exasperation._

 _"Let me be the judge of that, okay?" Dean rose a brow, his tone held no argument. "Why were those punks messing with you anyway?" He asked already knowing the reason._

 _The impala's engine purred loud and strong as Dean turned right._

 _"They wanted me to do their homework because guys like that has an I.Q of zero." Sam mumbled loud enough for Dean to hear._

 _Sam smirked as he remembered how mad they got when he refused to do their homework. It was something Sam was used to considering the good grades he got that easily made him a target for jocks and their bullying ways of trying to push him into doing assignments for them. He was always targeted and each time threats came with the proposal. It was either, "Do my homework or else," or, "Refuse to do what we say and you'll regret it."_

 _Sam was never intimidated by their meaningless taunts, refusing everytime. Of course, he's had his fair share of beatings because of it, often hiding the evidence from both John and Dean unless it was in a spot clothing couldn't keep from ones sight. Namely, his face or neck. Places that Dean always saw and was usually the first to notice his black eye or swollen lip and his brother always gave the same response and expression: Anger._

 _Dean would demand that Sam tell him who dared touch his little brother so that he could, how Dean would put it, "Kick their ass so bad they wouldn't be able to sit down for a week."_

 _Sam had to admit, he never hated Dean's protective nature even if it did get on his nerves from time to time. It was his brothers way of showing that he cared and would always be there for if or when he ever needed him._

 _That was even more clear thirty minutes ago when Sam found himself up against three large jocks, outnumbered and cornered._

 _The leader, Jared Fletcher, was more than a little angry because of Sam's decline to do his homework and how easily it was for him to say no. Whether it was Sam's firm stance or brave bravado as he stared the guy down with determined and unmoving eyes, it was enough to get a heated response from him._

 _Jared wasted no time pulling Sam by the hair, away from the sidewalk where he waited for Dean, and towards the side of the school. His buddy's trailing at his side like obedient ants ready to follow their queen._

 _School was out, has been for a good ten minutes and the students were long gone. The building was empty save for the handful of teachers that stayed over to grade papers and a few people that loomed around the block but even they were far away from the school. Even if Sam tried to get help he couldn't for the simple fact no one was even close enough to hear him and he would go unheard. That, however, didn't stop his show of determination and calm demeanor as he eyed them with fierce competition, his composure unwavering._

 _Jared grinned mischievously, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You had a choice. Do our homework, avoid a beat down or say no and get a beating of your life." He reached up and gripped Sam's chin, forcing him to only meet his fierce gaze. "All you had to do was say you'd do it."_

 _Smirking, Sam replied, "To bad because i'm pretty sure my exact words were go to hell."_

 _Dean would be proud at the solid conviction in his voice, that didn't shake even once or fail to show his confidence. It matched that of Dean's cockiness. A true Winchester attitude that even Sam pulled off at times._

 _Jared's face morphed into a snarl and he slammed Sam's head into the wall with more than a little force._

 _Sam grunted at the impact, almost losing his footing but managed to stay standing on strong feet. He could feel the pulsating pain vibrating through the back of his skull from the hit but fortunately it wasn't enough to make him bleed. Undoubtedly, there will be a bump visible later on for sure._

 _"You little shit. New kids like you need to learn your place. Well, my pals here are happy to oblige and give you a little lesson." Jared declared with enthusiasm and a smile._

 _Sam readied himself for the certain beating that was coming his way. He didn't flinch when one of Jared's goons gave him a right hook across the face. The punch hurt more than it should have, though and knocked Sam to the ground with a thud. The pain in his cheek stung. He felt something warm and wet start to roll down his face. It took him a few seconds to work through the wave of dizziness that hit him from the blow before he realized it was blood._

 _Jared crouched down in front of him. "Did that hurt? Are you okay?" Jared asked him fake concern, taunting in a mocking voice._

 _Sam glared at him in silence._

 _Jared laughed at Sam's defiance. "You've got guys, I will give you that, but, sometimes that can get you into a lot of trouble kid."_

 _Sam was picked up by the collar of his shirt, his head protested violently with the rough handling, and he was hit again. His back hit the wall and he slid down to the ground with a moan but before he was able to catch his breath a solid kick to his abdominal had him coughing violently as the air was forced from his lungs in a single blow. He snaked his arms around his stomach and gritted his teeth at the pain running through his torso. Even his ribs ached with intensity._

 _He lay on his side on the filthy ground. Sam's eyes were hidden behind long locks as he panted through his nose._

 _"Aw. I think he's going to cry." Sam heard one of them say, though which one he wasn't sure, to focused on breathing to even care._

 _"Hey! Get away from my brother you son's of bitches!"_

 _Sam could feel his body relax in relief at hearing the familiar voice coming from behind them._

 _Dean._

 _Looking up, his hair falling from his eyes, he saw the fear stricken expressions of the jocks faces, Sam long forgotten on the ground as they stared at the owner of the voice. He couldn't say he blamed him. There was fury and venom in Dean's yell that made even him tense. He didn't have to see his brothers face to know what he would see. Some would call him a feral beast bearing it's teeth in a snarl and a look of pure rage and some know it as Dean Winchester. Well Sam calls it a very over protective brother who would rip anyone apart when it came to Sam or anyone he cared about. Sucks to be on the receiving end of that._

 _Dean rushed over to them, something in him snapping when he took one look at his brother, who was on the ground clutching his stomach in pain. His eye already forming a bruise but it was the blood coating Sam's pale skin that sent any rational thought from Dean's mind. Dean lashed out, throwing a perfectly aimed punch at the man that was towering over Sam. His fist contacted with Jared's jaw, all Dean's anger pouring into one violent hit. He punched the boy squarely in the jaw and sent him flying backwards and onto the ground, unmoving, knocked out cold._

 _Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Dean easily managed to sidestep out of the path of an incoming punch and grabbed the man's extended arm. Dean twisted it behind the mans back and slammed him against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him before throwing him to the ground. Dean then twisted around in time to dodge another attack. Using his elbow, Dean slammed it into the guys chest causing him to stumble back and to Dean's advantage, using the guys moment of surprise, Dean delivered the final blow, sending him sprawling to the ground in pain._

 _All three jocks were squirming on the ground, one holding his now bloody broken nose. Dean's anger turned to satisfaction at their obvious dismay and he wasted no time turning and running over to Sam, who, at this point, was using the wall to stand up._

 _Dean grabbed Sam's arm and helped him stand. Grabbing Sam's chin, Dean forced his head up so that he could see his little brothers face and just how much damage was done. "Sammy? Sorry, I was a little late. You okay?" Using a thumb, he wiped at the blood which only proved to smear._

 _Sam's eye was starting to take on a nasty bruise and his face was paler than usual, forehead glistening with sweat. Dean's main concern was the cut on Sam's cheek that was slightly deep and was still pushing out blood. That would be the first thing to clean up._

 _"Where else are you hurt?" Dean asked checking Sam for any other injuries and recalling the way Sam hugging his mid section. "What about your ribs?"_

 _Sam did an eye roll. "Dean. I'm fine." A grimace of pain when Dean pressed down on Sam's chest to examine his ribs said otherwise._

 _"Okay, so not broken at least but will definitely be sore and hurt like a bitch for a few days." Dean ignored Sam's annoyed protests. "Uh huh. You're fine."_

 _Sam didn't say anything and allowed Dean to help him to the car._

 _"Well they won't bother you anymore now that they know your awesome and much cooler older brother has your back." Dean smiled cockily and smiled toothily._

 _"You sure it's just not your face that scares them?" Sam asked jokingly._

 _Dean raised a brow in disbelief. "This face? That can get any chick it wants and can melt ice cold hearts? Right. Not likely, Sammy." He inquired._

 _"Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, jerk." Sam pointed with a huff._

 _"You'll always be Sammy, bitch." Dean reached over and ruffled Sam's, desperate in need of a haircut, shaggy hair much to Sam's annoyance, keeping in consideration of Sam's injured cheek._

 _Sam knocked Dean's hand away but not quick enough and his hair was in a mess and fell lazily in his face. "Dean!"_

 _Dean's laughter filled the space in the car and he reached over and twisted the volume knob until the music came to life and AC/DC came through the speakers._

 _Sam mumbled, "Thanks."_

 _Dean smiled fondly at his sibling. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll always be there."_

* * *

Toni took a sip of coffee, the contents sliding down her throat soothingly warm and eased her sore throat. Her eyes remained on the monitor. She had underestimated the Winchester. Her mistake. One that she won't make a second time. Toni knew just how cunning they were having been watching them for years but she didn't know just how sneaky they could be. Nor how creative.

Toni massaged at her tender neck. The feel of fingers wrapped around her skin cutting off air was still lingering as if she could feel even now. The hand desperately trying to force her breathe from her body until she was left gasping for air or until she passed out from lack of oxygen to the brain. She could still feel Sam's hold as well as see the desperation staring at her from his pain filled eyes and yet he didn't kill her.

Sam's strategy was flawless, tricking her into really thinking he had cut his own throat as the hallucinations won over his sanity. He made her believe that he was at his wits end and that suicide was the only way out. Sam made it seem as if the glass pierced his neck when really it was a clever reuse, a false act that was good enough to be magicians trick. A plan that would have worked without fail.

So why had Sam not killed her?

Instead he simply chocked her enough to knock her unconscious or so he thought.

To her surprise, Samuel did not intend to kill her despite his various threats of doing so when he got free.

"How interesting." She stared at Sam who didn't move off the steps but remained motionless with his head rested against the wall. "So what will you do? Will you cave? Or are we going to continue this pointless routine of cat and mouse?" Toni sipped the coffee once more, her curiosity beaming as she wondered how long the game was going to last until Sam finally broke under the pressure.

He was already starting to crack. Toni could see that. With every hour that passed the drug she had slipped him continued to work its way in, forcing its way into the very darkest corners of Sam's mind. The drug had three stages. The first in which attacked the victims with hallucinations. Their memories. It twisted them into horrors, making them into what the victim most feared and replayed them in a sense of despair. Everything that they feared, whatever really destroyed them to their very core, was like a repeat of past events right before their very eyes and some memories? They were not for the faint of heart because some memories were never meant to resurface.

Toni watched as Sam was attacked by such memories. She was aware of the Winchesters past and she knew just how terrorizing Sam's memories were to the point she was sure he would be brought crumbling just by the hallucinations. So she expected but it seemed Sam wasn't that easily succumbed and put up quite the fight.

"Can you survive the next stage with your sanity in tact? Show me Sam Winchester, show me how strong willed you are. That, or break under the weight of your own mind." Toni smiled in anticipation knowing the wait will be worth the end result.

However, her smile died into a frown when the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking sounded behind her.

* * *

 _I'll always be there._

 _Always._

"Dean?" Sam croaked, his throat sore and raw from screaming, knocked out of sleep, the memory fading away but Dean's words still echoed. "Why...aren't you here now..." He wondered out loud.

He felt cold even though he was feverish and heat toppled off his forehead in rays, he felt nothing but ice cold chills wracking through his body. The wall against his head eased the burning a little but it wasn't enough to ease the hot sensation completely. As if it would matter. His head may be hot but the rest of him was freezing which was strange considering the amount of injuries he sustained thanks to the crazed British women.

Sam forced his eyes to open, squinting as though the action was too much for his lids to handle. The pain in his foot was more of a small throb now and the gun shot wound didn't register to him anymore having long grown numb.

Despite his current situation and the fact he might die, alone and in a basement that smelled like blood because of his torture, he wasn't afraid. Hell, he should have died back in cold oak. Then everything that ever happened from the point to now would never have happened. Dean would never had known what it was like to have a mother for only four years just to see her burn on a ceiling because of his little brother. Jessica never would have lost her life in the same way and would have been a scholar with a bright future. John never would have known the obsession of revenge and raised Dean as a hunter. Dean never would have made a deal and got a one way ticket to hell just to save him. Lucifer never would have been freed.

The list goes on and on.

If only he had never been born.

If he died in this shitty basement then so be it.

It was long over do.

Sam raised his head with difficulty. He was weak from blood loss and he was physically drained. The last of his strength died along with his escape attempt. He blew his last shot at getting out of there. Toni wasn't stupid and he doubted she would fall for the same trick twice. Now, if anything, she would be more cautious.

He looked at the camera. His breathing was fast and strained. "Just end it! I won't tell you anything! Just kill me because you ain't getting a damn thing from me!" He yelled with as much authority he could muster which wasn't much.

 _You know. That's a great idea. Why don't you just die._

Sam flinched harshly at the venomous words shot at him from the other end of the room. His eyes widened when he saw his brother standing there looking at him with hatred and disgust in his once soft emerald orbs.

"Dean..." Sam's voice cracked and he blinked several times not sure if what he was seeing was really what he was seeing. "Why...are you..."

 _Here? Oh that's right. I'm dead. Blown up taking amara with me_. Dean smiled with pride but it somehow seemed wrong.

Sam licked his dry lips. "You're not real." He closed his eyes not wanting to see such hatred sent towards him by his brother, real or fake.

 _I'm very real and you little brother killed me. Happy? You're finally ridden of me to do whatever you want. Then again, you always did exactly what you wanted. In the end you leave me for college to go live your apple pie life. A normal life isn't that right, Sammy?_ Well look how that turned out. Dean's tone morphed into a low key, accusation and despise clearly heard like poison dripping off words mixed with betrayal.

Sam opened his eyes and fixed his wounded gaze on Dean. The hurt shone like crystals in his eyes as he stared at his brother. "No, no Dean. I didn't-"

 _Shut up! How many times are we going to do this, Sam? You fuck up and other people pay the price? How many times have I paid for your mistakes?!_ Dean yelled furiously taking a violent step towards Sam.

Sam's eyes grew wider as Dean spilled his angry words, spitting them out like a bad taste on his mouth and throwing them straight at him. He tensed as Dean took a step toward him but it wasn't because he was afraid of what Dean might do. No, it was because his brothers words were true. Sam has messed up so many times and innocent people paid the price for his wrong decisions.

His mistakes were an ugly reality of death and destruction. Nothing good ever came from his choices and Dean? Dean died for him, sold his soul that Sam could live and how did Sam repay him? By going off the deep end and trusting a demon. A demon that used him and came to him when he was at his lowest, when he was most pathetic. Right after Dean's death. Instead of trusting his hunter instincts and sending the demon back to hell he allowed her to persuade him into using powers he didn't know he processed even though he knew it was wrong.

At the time he didn't care. Dean was dead and he was alone. He thought that the curse he was given could be used for something good but you don't play with fire and not expect not to be burned. He thought, by exorcizing demons in a way that didn't kill the victim, that he would save more lives and in a way he had but it also turned him into something far worse than any monster ** _._**

 ** _If I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you._**

Dean's words pierced Sam's heart like a bullet and did more damage than any wound could. He never imagined Dean would ever say something like that to him and to hear that Dean would hunt him undid Sam in a way that could not be explained and the worst part was that Sam knew Dean was right.

 ** _Listen, you blood sucking freak. Dad said I either had to save you or kill you. Well im done saving you. The Sam I know is gone. You're a monster._**

Sam was a monster.

Sam let out a sob. "I'm so sorry Dean."

Dean nodded, his eyes going to the floor. His lips pushed out then curled inward. He then shook his head. _You're sorry?_ He asked in disbelief.

Sam looked away ashamed but looked back in time to see Dean picking up a piece of glass that lay abandoned on the floor. Its edges glinted when the light touched it showing off the dried substance of red covering it in splatters of sickening scarlet.

The same glass he used before.

Sam eyes it in confusion and watching as Dean stared at it.

 _If you are really sorry than you'll do what you should have done years ago. Before Lucifer. Before Yellow eyes. Before I ever made the stupid decision of making that deal for you. Dean stated with regret, his tone emotionless making Sam flinch. Do it Sam. It's your only redemption_. Dean threw the glass in on the floor in front of him, wanting Sam to come and pick it up.

Something in Sam snapped. A chord in his mind split in two and his mind shut down. Sorrow and despair collided within him as he stood on shaky legs. His rationality was replaced with a sense of hopelessness and distress at Dean's heartless words.

He moved slowly towards his brother who remained still and calm. Sam's eyes never leaving the sharp glass gleaming from the floor.

 _Do it._

 _You're a monster Sam._

 _You killed me_.

Sam bent over and picked the glass up with shaky hands. The edges digging into the palm of his hand and into the fresh cut from before but the pain was something he didn't feel. He was numb, inside and out. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel. He couldn't care.

 _This is your redemption._

 _Do it!_

Sam placed the glass against his wrist. It was cool and sharp against his skin. Its taunting bite driving into his wrist with little pressure making a small puncture that started to bleed. Blood rolling down his hand until it dripped onto the floor _._

 _Do it Sam. Be one less evil to worry about. One less monster to hunt._

One monster gone. It was a constant repeat of thought and without hesitation Sam applied more pressure and slowly started to move the glass across his wrist.

"Sam! No!"

Sam never heard the locks being pulled back nor the door as it slammed open. He didn't hear the loud rush of footsteps that rushed down the stairs and towards him, not even the call of his name. He didn't register when a hand gripped his arm and knocked the glass out of his grasp or the hands gripping either side of his face.

His brothers face swarm into his vision. The expression before that held nothing but hate and disgust was replaced with concern and fear. Dean's eyes were wide and fearful and he stared at Sam, pleading for a response. His brothers mouth was moving but no words formed, no sound came out.

Sam felt a sudden weakness and his legs turned to jelly and fell forward losing what little strength he had. His eyes rolling up into the back of his head as dizziness struck but, the floor never rose to greet him instead he found himself being caught in a strong hold. Something firm wrapped around him supporting his weight. He could fell warmth being pressed against him and all he could think was this was safe. This was home.

He couldn't hold on to reality any longer as a black oblivion crept up to take him but in his last moment of consciousness he heard:

"I gotcha, Sammy...Im right here."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, I planned to make this the last chapter but figured to split it. There will be one more chapter! New Walking Dead tonight guys. Its gonna be awesome and I can't wait! Okay I also need y'all's vote. After I have completed this story, I will be starting another one.

I also want to apologize to those who have been waiting on a story I planned to write months ago called Fighting Darkness! I will actually be re-watching the episode cuz I haven't seen it in awhile. Cuz I don't remember what all happened in that episode. So I should be starting on that story soon.

 ** _Pick-A-Fic Time!_**

 _1) Sam gets thrown into the past, age and memories in tact, where he meets a very alive John Winchester and 15 year old Dean. What's worst is his younger self is no where in sight. He has to figure out how to get back while keeping his identity a secret. To bad Dean isn't stupid._

 _2) After a hunt gone wrong, the boys find out a werewolf isn't the only creature roaming the dark woods of California. Dean gets hit with a curse that reverses him back into the body of a twelve year old and the last thing he remembered was being on a hunt. In New Orleans with his dad._

 _3) Inspired by a fic I read awhile back and still read now, by the lovely **nightmares06** \- Sam didn't know what happened. Dean just disappeared and he hadn't a clue what happened. Frantic, he searches for answers. When he ends up on the bad end of a vampire, a familiar face appears and saves him. Problem is, its Dean's face he sees, looking a little smaller than before. _

Okay guys, pick 1, 2, or 3. Its hard to say if ill write all three so that's why I'm giving you the choice to choose. Anyway, thanks for reading a long ass AN. XD

 _ **Enjoy** ^^_

* * *

 _Castiel patiently waited for Dean and Mary to arrive. He comfortably leaned up against the stolen truck he hijacked over twelve hours ago._

 _With peering eyes, he gazed upon the house that kept him out by powerful warding's, repelling him from going more than twenty feet near its confinement. He took in every detail, from the banged up rust bucket of a truck, it being a ugly color of red as the many years of harsh weather and poor environment caused it to rot and break away. The metal withering away until its nothing more than shavings on the ground._

 _Trees stood tall reaching in height of that of the house. The limbs swaying and the leaves rustling as the peaceful wind filled the air and swept them into a graceful dance. Very few of the leaves broke from the branches and were being carried through the sky by the invisible force; swirling and drifting without one particular direction, allowing the unseen wind to guide them._

 _Castiel tilted his head in mild fascination. He watched as the small leaf rose high and higher in altitude. The farther it got swept up the smaller it appeared until it finally it was nothing more than a very little spec of green hovering with the clouds._

 _The all to familiar rumble of the impala coming towards him knocked him from his trance of admiration. Cas turned his head in time to see it coming to a smooth stop behind the truck, her soft purr dying down to a quiet silence._

 _Cas turned to fully face Dean and Mary as they wasted no time getting out of the car, the light bouncing off the black metal as Dean opened and shut the driver side door._

 _"Where's all this warding you mentioned?" He asked out right getting down to business._

 _"It's cloaked and very powerful." Cas answered easily. He gazed back at Mary. "You brought your mother?" He asked with a bit of confusion hidden in the question._

 _Mary came up behind them, her hair in a neat braid hanging down on one side. "Hello Castiel and yes he did." She answered his question._

 _Dean nodded. "You sure there's anyone inside?" He asked even though he had a sinking feeling Sam was definitely being kept somewhere in the house._

 _Cas eyed the house wearily, not one hundred percent sure if there was anyone there. He wasn't completely unconvinced considering the angel warding that surrounded area. It had to be placed there by someone. "No but someone warded the house."_

 _"Right. I'm going in for a closer look." Dean stated not wanting to waste anymore time getting to Sam._

 _With that said he made for the house._

* * *

Dean took careful steps around the seemingly abandoned building, caution in every move, with his beautiful 45' held firmly in both hands at his side for the ready if need be. His advance was slow and stealthy, like a predator, falling into a natural routine like he has done countless times. He moved around the side of the building with ease and efficiency; like a snake slithering about undetected. In quiet strides, he eased himself around the side of building, first peeking around to make sure it was clear of any threat. His eyes trained and aware looking in every direction taking in the several piles of discarded and rotting wood on the ground along with broken glass sparkling like diamonds in the sun, reflecting light that seemed to bounce off the ground and hitting his eyes making him squint at their harsh penetration

The first thing he noticed was that the house was surrounded by over grown weeds and scrap but not one vehicle was visible on the property except for the antique, rusty beat up truck surrounded by dead grass that he spotted on arrival. Two wheels were missing with only the rims in their place, the other two where flat with sizable holes in them. One set of the head lights were busted. All in all, a vehicle that hasn't run in over twenty years and the rust had ate out much of the metal making it nothing more than scrap to be hauled off.

The home was old with boards nailed over the windows, the glass gone, shattered into multiple pieces save for the sharp shards sticking out from the ends of the once whole window. Black mold and weeds started to overtake the small building mercifully. The leaves and stems using the wood as a support to climb up the decade old house.

Cautiously, he surveyed the area, seeing that though there were some windows boarded up with fine wood, there were a few perfectly in tact and with curtains on the inside.

Dean carefully maneuvered around those ones, easily ducking down from view to be on the safe side. He didn't know if anyone was actually using the place to hold up but knew if they were then he would have to be wise about how he slinked around the grounds. He needed to blend in like a camellia, cloaked and undetected.

Dean's thoughts drifted to Sam.

The emotions that ran through him like a raging storm of thunder and lightning when he arrived at the bunker to find Sam gone and a pool of red coating the floor, hit him like a ton of bricks. All at once he was hit with shock, confusion and fear at seeing the already dried blood shimmering in a dark scarlet. It's sickening sight hard to miss considering it was in more than one place, particularly running along the floor in a straight path, small spots of blood splattered, accompanied the larger stains.

It was enough to get every one of Dean's limbs to freeze and his body to tense on the spot but within seconds Dean was automatically on alert and grabbing his gun from the safety of its confinement and cocking the chamber back, ready to shoot the thing anything that suspiciously moved.

There was shock, accompanied by confusion then fear, as the realization that something bad went down while he was off on his suicidal mission, struck his senses like a well placed bolt of electricity but there was one feeling that overpowered every other sensation and that was overwhelming panic and concern.

Worry for Sam had him moving forward with the gun pointing down at the floor and at the ready. His finger placed over the trigger for a fast and immediate response to any unwanted threat still looming around the corridors of the bunker. His 'big brother' senses were on full panic and he just knew that it was Sam's blood decorating the floor. Which made every fiber Dean had shake in a quickly rising anger, that was quickly pushing past the growing concern, for whatever had hurt his brother.

He still had to wonder though, how Sam managed to get himself in such predicaments every time Dean wasn't around. It was like his brother was a large magnet meant to attract all the big bad monsters looking to tear into some juicy flesh. Sam was always getting the worst end of the deal, being the one to usually catch the creatures point of interest on most of their hunts. Which ended up with Dean saving his ass. Of course, Sam did his fair sharing of saving a brother for ironic reasons. Sam had a thing about being choked, whether it be a ghost or crazed vampires, and Dean always got lifted into the air like a rag doll and thrown a good ten feet.

Sam was choked. Dean was thrown.

A shitty way to go about a Salt 'N' Burn considering that's how it always ended, with one or both, of them getting hurt, Sam strangled or Dean tossed.

Their lives were always so complicated.

It didn't make things less complicated considering his brothers unfortunate luck. Trouble always found Sam, not the other way around. It had achene sense and targeted Sam like a guided bombshell no matter where he was.

Dean even threatened to put a 'I'm right here' sign on Sam's forehead. Like he would ever need it. Kids already a giant bleep for every supernatural creation around the world.

In a rational sense.

Moving forward and up the two steps protruding from the floor, he caught sight of the bloody drawn symbol on the wall and realized it was an angel warding and Dean guessed Cas got a one way ticket to banishment. It only added more confusion and unanswered questions to Dean's suspicions.

He couldn't help the fear crawling up his spine like an eight legged spider and it gave him Goosebumps. Small chills wracked his body when he thought about how hurt Sam might be. The amount of blood on the floor was a considerable amount and it scared him.

What scared him more, what had him closing his eyes and running a shaky hand over his mouth, was the fact that Sam is in danger thinking Dean was dead and this time Dean wouldn't be there. Something about that made him feel sick at his stomach. It shouldn't be that way, it should never be that way. Sam thinking that Dean wouldn't be there, even if he thought he was dead, blown away by the invisible bomb planted inside him ticking away his minutes, was a thought that should never enter Sam's mind. Yet, at that very moment it was exactly what Sam was thinking. Dean didn't need to see his face, or read his thoughts, to know wherever Sam was, whatever he was going through, to know Sam wasn't expecting Dean to come save him.

Like hell.

He was going to rescue Sammy and, show whoever made the mistake of spilling Sam's blood, that it was a bad decision to go after his brother. No one got away with hurting Sam without a good ass woopin from Dean Winchester.

Dean was a fierce hunter, a man that has both seen and bestowed terrors of all kinds. There were occasions when he scared himself after a brutal kill. That un-nerving swarm of triumph and victory whenever he beheaded a vampire, or shot the heart out of a werewolf, ran through him like lava; hot and destructive like a newly awakened volcano and it was aggressive. It was as if he was frozen in a trance, his eyes as hard as stone and colder than icicles, caught in the moment as he watched the life drain from the creatures wide eyes. It's cruel and fearful orbs.

When he got the mark, that was all he felt. There was nothing but sure satisfaction from watching the light die from his prey's eyes. It was a thrill, an addiction that Dean craved and a hunger that was never really filled. He couldn't get enough, wanting more and more. He wanted to strip them, not only of their meaningless life, but of their pride. He wanted to watch the moment they realized death was something they would never escape and Dean was going to be the one to take that away from them. Knowing that they quivered under Dean's cold stare and his harsh hold gave him the kind of feeling that made him complete.

The mark longed for it, thirst for it and it pulsated viciously, glowing in red hot rage on his arm, making that fact known. Letting it be well aware that without bloodshed it wasn't pleased and would continue to send hot flares racing through his veins. Only lessening when the blade rested comfortably in his hand. Even then it didn't go away. Not until he quenched its desires, settling it's anger with the one thing that could numb its constant ache; death.

It turned him into a worse being than any vampire or werewolf.

Sam saw it, the sudden changes in Dean's behavior, his sudden want for blood, seeing first hand what the mark really done to Dean when he first handled the cursed blade. It sent power racing through his veins, freeing his mind from reality and completely taking him over.

He remembered hearing Sam's voice. It sounded far away and didn't reach his ears at first but then it grew louder. Sam was pleading, his words shaking, concealed in confusion, on the brink of panic as the mark took control of Dean's free will.

All that went through Dean's mind was kill, being repeated over and over. His attention glued on the bloody dead corpse of the man he had killed. Still the words kept flowing endlessly pushing through his mind to be the only though known. All rationality thrown out the window. He felt the blade coursing through him. It's strength, it's rage, it's evil gripping him with all it's might, tainting him.

Yet, the influence it held over him teetered with one word. One voice. Sam's.

 _Dean_? His name, almost a whisper, knocked him from the deep ravine he was thrown in.

As if a flip was thrown, the blade slipped from his fingers easily enough where it fell with a 'thud' onto the floor. It's hold broken. Its presence forgotten.

What Dean saw in Sam's eyes then made Dean's heart do a complete one eighty because it takes alot for a Winchester to cry. Though tears didn't roll down Sam's face, the evidence was shinning brightly in the corners of his eyes, moist from barely contained tears that he was denying to let fall. His face scrunched up in pain and not of the physical variety.

Dean put that look on Sam's face. Those watery eyes as they stared at him with so many emotions running through them.

Dean didn't know if it was because he had literally scared the living hell out of Sam or if Sam himself realized just how much the mark was changing him. Not for the better but for the worse. At that moment Dean was scarier than any fang and he knew it by the fear in his brothers confused gaze.

It was a fight that Dean struggled with ever since receiving the mark from Cain. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it's violent touch, it's suffocating presence, everytime it would remind him that he was not in complete control. He was nothing more but the vessel for it's hatred.

Yet, no matter how far he fell within the Marks grasp, there was that one thing that was constant, something stronger than the anger and never ending blood want. The one thing that could not be replaced by it's wrath.

The very reason Dean could be scarier than any evil creature that roamed the earth.

That was the big brother in him. His devotion to protect Sammy and kill anything that threatened to go near Sam, anything that tried to harm him because they shortly found out how dangerous Dean could really be. Just how ruthless.

"I'm coming, Sammy." Dean muttered a silent promise to himself as he moved around the yard in slow strides.

* * *

Dean slowly stepped up to the open garage, gun trained in front of him as he peeked around the corners before walking in. He noted the it's bare walls save for the old nails sticking out. Debris littered the garage floor and hung lazily from the ceiling. The place was falling to pieces due to the lack of care over the years. It was clear it hasn't been occupied for quite some time.

Just when he was about to step out from the other side, a loud banging that sounder close caught his attention. His head turned before his body did, eyes open and alert at the unexpected noise. His hunter instincts screaming at him to tread carefully. Dean never questioned his instincts as they were usually spot on and right now, that little voice in his head saying 'Something's not right' was loud and affirmative.

Narrowing his eyes, Dean turned back around, ignoring the sound for the time being, and proceeded by walking out of the garage by using what once was a door way. Of course it was missing a door and was now just the frame leading to the other side. The debris was scattered everywhere, dangling limply from beams that had no top, just wood and loose plastic.

He stepped around the mess and spotted a cellar door on the other side of the house. Dean eyed it with suspicion. He could see that there was no lock on the outside and was more than likely latched from the inside, but, something was off about it. That nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him it was a trap.

His first reaction was to investigate it but that little voice came back and this time it was screaming 'danger'.

He made his way swiftly past the cellar door and that's when he saw it. A neatly drawn symbol printed on the ground in front of the door. It wasn't written in blood, that was obvious, its color more like a tan, and was hard to see at first as it blended in with the ground. One wouldn't know it was there until they were right on top of it making it the perfect set up for unwanted guests.

Fortunately, Dean was trained better than that. Sure, there were times he failed to be more aware and alert and ended up falling right into the traps set. Only, he couldn't afford any misjudgments or miscalculations. Not when Sam was involved. One wrong move and he could be caught and then someone would have to save his sorry ass. Which rules out Cas who couldn't even set one foot on the property. He was sure Mary, without difficulty, could be more than enough to save both him or Sammy.

Mary was strong. She had more spunk and confidence than any hunter Dean's met, even over powering him and sending him to the ground with one twist of the arm. Her demeanor could be intimidating and downright terrifying, giving John a run for his money.

Still, Dean would prefer she stay out of it. He knew she was good and capable of handling herself in a hunt. He knew, because he remembered how easily she had got the drop on him when he met her younger and much more energetic self.

When he found out Mary was a hunter and not your normal house wife.

Quite the shocker there.

To say Dean was impressed would be an understatement. He never imagined Mary anything more than a caring mother and devoted wife. The thought never occurred to him that she could have been a hunter in her earlier life. It was an impossible wonderment that never once crossed his mind. To him, she was a mother who always smiled with radiance and love. Her eyes always soft and her touch much to gentle to be the hands that once belonged to a hunter. A wife who loved her husband unconditionally and made a family of four.

Just a normal, loving family who lived in a small house in Kansas.

Sam was alot like Mary.

Her words reminding him of Sam as soon as they were said.

 _I spent my life running from this, from hunting and I got out. I never wanted this for you and Sam._

Her hands shaking from moments before when she drove the angel blade into the women in order to save Dean. The solemn look in her eyes. Mary's body shook with incontrollable vibes.

And Dean realized just how much of Mary was in Sam.

Sam always wanted to be normal, was dead set on living life to the fullest by leaving the hunting business and going to college. Maybe meeting a girl and falling in love. Later getting married and having a family of his own. Well, he got to go to college, he met a girl, fell in love.

And in one single night all of that was just gone. Sam's dream coming crashing down in a violent aftermath of fire and death.

Jess taken away in the same manner as their mother.

And Dean never felt so much sympathy than he did that night.

For months Sam suffered horrendous nightmares of his girlfriend burning in front of him.

Of course, his brother brushed it off and never talked about it. He didn't need to. Dean could see it in Sam's eyes. Sam wasn't okay, he was hurting, in turmoil and trying to brush it off like a bad cold.

Being tough was the Winchester way. John had drilled that into them since they were able to walk and talk. Always saying that, 'Winchesters don't cry, they suck it up.' So he was always tough on them, teaching them how to survive and defend themselves. Being weak meant letting your guard down and ending up as a monsters play toy. That went both way, physically and mentally. Crying was out of the question.

However, Sam was still always the emotional one. Where Dean took his fathers example and hid away most of his distracting emotions, Sam was an open book. Talking freely about what was bothering him came naturally and more easily as if it was a simple task and John hadn't hot wired it into their brains.

Then again, Sam was never into Johns vengeful quest to find the thing that killed their mother. Obviously. He was always butting heads and picking fights with their father. His rebellious nature a constant thorn in Johns side and a problem for Dean, somehow being tossed in the middle of most his father and brothers arguments. He knew better than to go against anything John said but at the same time understanding where Sam was coming from.

Dean himself would have liked a apple pie life. At one point, when he was around seven, he thought about how cool it would to work in a garage as a mechanic. He loved cars and later enjoyed working on them. Them being the impala since it took more beatings than Sam or Dean on a daily basis.

Despite Sam's accusations of Dean being a obedient soldier, it didn't mean he didn't at least once in their unfortunate lives think of being normal.

Dean realized normal was certainly not their thing.

They were normal once with a mother and father who planned on raising them like any other family but that was stripped from them the moment the demon killed Mary.

Everything changed.

At some point Dean quit thinking about the what 'if's' and 'what could have been' had Mary died. All he wanted to do was hunt and kill ever evil son of a bitch he could find. It became a natural part of his life. Nothing else mattered except hunting things, saving people.

The family business.

That, and watching out for Sammy.

His job since day one. It became stronger the moment John placed a crying Sam into his arms and demanded he run as fast as he can.

Yet, he couldn't protect Sam from everything, much to his dismay.

Sam lost a chance at a stable life away from hunting. Worse than that, he lost Jess.

He hated that anyone had to go through that, having seen it himself, and even though he was four years old the image was burned into his brain. His beautiful mother pinned to a ceiling with blood staining her white night gown with orange and red flames devouring her from every angle. It was a sickening picture forever embedded in the back of Dean's mind.

Then Sam had to witness the one thing Dean himself wanted to forget? Sam was a baby and Dean was thankful that he hadn't been old enough to fully grasp what was happening at the time, his mind to small to support memories or comprehend emotions. He was glad that Sam would never have to see what he had.

Winchesters bad luck was as strong as ever.

Dean was prepared to go up against the unthinkable, the impossible, if it meant keeping Sam safe and alive. He would dive head first into an ocean riled up by tsunami's knowing that he would drown but still giving it everything he had to get to Sam. Thrown himself into the very depths of hell again, to save him.

But there was some things, no matter how hard Dean fought to shield Sam from, that was more stronger than Dean's determination to protect Sammy.

He would give anything to change what happened. He never wanted Sam to go through that but the truth of it was he could no more change the past than he could current situation right now.

Throwing the thoughts from his mind, Dean marveled around the odd scripture and walked towards the other side of the house, shooting a final glance at the door.

Hunkering down, he moved to the other side of a bare window, slowly raising up, he looked inside.

There was a women sitting in a chair, her attention solely focused on the small monitor in front of her. She held a cup in her hand and took a sip of the contents inside. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, expression stoic, completely fixated in whatever was on that screen. She looked young, maybe in her early thirties with average clothes.

Dean couldn't make out what was on the screen. He was getting a sinking feeling that Castiel was right about Sam being there and if his hunch was right, then it was Sam that had her undivided attention.

His grip on the gun tightened as he pictured Sam, broken and bloody laying on some basement floor. All fight drained from him from whatever torture was played out on him. An image Dean shook from his head, the anger coming back when he imagined the kind of state he was going to find Sam in. Just the thought that Sam could be bleeding out from his injuries and on the brink of death lit the kind of fire inside him that was dangerously close to combusting.

Jaw set, Dean grabbed the handle of the door. With bated breath he slowly turned the knob, intent on surprizing the women with quiet intention.

The door pushed forward without so much as a squeak as he eased it opened just in time to hear her amused voice.

"Can you survive the next stage with your sanity in tact? Show me Sam Winchester, show me how strong willed you are. That, or break under the weight of your own mind."

It was his brothers name leaving the women's twisted mouth and the way she used 'survive', 'sanity', and 'break' in the same paragraph, that had him bringing the gun up and pointed at her head. The loud 'click' of the safety being thrown enough to give away his presence. He didn't care, he already had the upper advantage and if anything he could shoot her where she sit.

Her shoulders tensed, posture changing completely, going from relaxed to rigid at the sound of the gun cocking behind her.

"Turn around." He ordered, voice calm yet held a dangerously low key to it.

The women stood up and faced him, taking in note the way he glowered at her. His eyes unmoving and hard, anger clear in his features. "Dean Winchester?" She asked casually as if they gun aimed at her was nothing more than a prop.

Dean smiled. "The one and only." Grin fading, both hands on the gun, all seriousness he asked, "Where's Sam?"

She sighed. "I guess Ms. Watt failed in keeping you busy." She quipped with disappointment, gaze never wavering from the man in front of her.

"No one dents my baby without getting a serious beat down. Still, hope you wasn't expecting her back anytime soon. Now, where is Sam. I won't ask again." Dean took a step forward and regretted it when the women struck out with one arm to knock the piece from his hand and used the other to punch him in the face.

Dean stumbled at the unexpected retaliation. Her fist connected with his jaw line, and damn, Dean had to seriously rethink the whole 'women are weaker than men' thing. It was like being hit with a brick with how much power she put into that single hit. It wasn't enough to knock him on his ass but he had shake his head when he saw stars.

"Yes. You killed her. I was informed. Only makes it more reasoned to dispose of you Winchesters." She didn't allow him to catch his breath, already going in for another blow.

Right when she was about to land a punch to Dean's face, her fist was caught and Toni looked to see a women clutching her hand.

She was to focused on Dean that she didn't notice when a different presence found its way into the room. Evidently neither did Dean by the look of confusion, that was quickly replaced with relief, at seeing her. "Good timing." He grunted.

Mary pulled her fist back and punched the British women, putting enough force behind it to send her sprawled out on the ground. "No one messes with my boys."

Dean smirked, impressed. "Remind me not to piss you off." He picked himself off the ground, grabbing Mary's extended hand, grateful for the help.

Mary walked over to her son's discarded firearm and picked it up, aiming it down at the British women who was just starting to pick herself up. "Don't think so. Stay down." The command was lethal and held no defiance from the person it was commanded to.

Toni stayed down on the floor. She wiped the blood away from the top of her lip where it flowed from her now busted nose and stared at Mary with spite in her eyes.

Mary rose a curious brow, side glancing at Dean. "You let a woman get the best of you."

Dean made a face, retorting, "She's a woman of letters! She's stronger than she looks."

Mary laughed. "Right." Looking around, keeling her gun lined up with Toni's head, her eyes fell on the lit up laptop. "What's that?" She asked, smile fading from her lips when she made out a form standing in the middle of the room.

Dean was already moving.

The moment he saw the shape on the screen he knew it was Sam. He was relieved to see him up and moving, that was a plus. Still, there was something off about Sam's stance, the way he stood still, his back to the camera, his rigid body language. It was hard to see any injuries from the quality of the picture. One thing was certain, though.

Sam was holding something. What, Dean didn't know but the statement Toni declared earlier came back.

What had she meant?

Whatever is was, it wasn't anything good.

Something was wrong.

Dean hurriedly undid the many locks on the door, worry and frustration leaking through the surface in his haste to get to Sam. "Come on, dammit!" Last lock undone and Dean threw the door open and raced down the stairs.

The smell hit him right away. The scent of blood and hard sweat filled his nostrils. He was sure if he looked at the floor he would see the evidence of the last twenty some hours of Sam's torment. The ugly substance know as blood. Sam's blood. It was strong in the air.

There, in the middle of the room, was his whole 6'4 sasquatch of a brother.

He didn't have time to assess the room. His eyes were only on Sam, who, had his hand out with a sharp piece of glass in the other pressed firmly against his wrist. Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight. A small steady stream of blood was already tickling down Sam's arm to drip on the floor. His legs seemed frozen and didn't want to move, to horrified by what was happening in front of him.

It wasn't until Sam started to press down harder and move the shard did Dean finally find his ability to move.

"Sam! No!" Dean yelled frantically. Was his brother actually trying to kill himself?!

Dean knocked the glass out of Sam's hand, careful on how he did it. He didn't want it digging deeper into Sam's broken skin. He cupped Sam's cheeks and forced him to look at him until his eyes met his. He noticed right then that Sam was locked in some kind of trance. His eyes glazed over in a thick fog, unseeing.

"Sam? Hey?" One small slap to the cheek. "Come on, show me some kind of sign you hear me." He coached his brother but Sam couldn't hear him, didn't even move, just continued to stare blankly.

Dean's eyes went wide, new panic flared at seeing Sam's eyes suddenly roll up into his head and he started to pitch forward. Dean was ready for it, seeing the lack of function in Sam's awareness, and caught his brother as he fell in a motionless lump against his chest.

Dean snaked his arm around Sam to help support his brother, hugging him against his chest. He quickly checked Sam's neck for a pulse. It took longer than he liked for the familiar 'thump' to make itself know. Which means it was slow and sluggish and not to Dean's liking.

"I gotcha, Sammy...Im right here."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: OKAY so one more chapter after this T.T Jeez. I hate when I plan to end it but then end up writing more XD Oh well. So most of you voted for option 1 in the previous chapter. Look forward for that story next!

Expect mistakes, misspellings, errors etc. Will fix when I can! My phone auto corrects ALOT. lol

Enjoy ^^

* * *

Mary kept her distance and silently watched from the foot of the stairs as Dean held Sam close, muttering reassurances to his unconscious sibling in some way of comforting him. Even from her position at the stairway she could see Dean's hand gripping Sam's ruined shirt, his knuckles turning white from the pressure, Dean's shoulders drawn up with slowly building tension as the worry and anger began to bleed through his usually calm and stoic posture.

Even though these men, her sons, were grown up and practically strangers to her, that familiar concern a mother had for her child was something that never disappeared. It threatened to consume her, to knock her to her knees at Sam's side and comfort him. She wanted more than anything to run over to her youngest and place his head on her lap and tell him everything was going to be alright, to run her fingers through his outstandingly long brown locks in an attempt to sooth his pain through a gentle touch.

As she watched the scene in front of her, she knew that her love wasn't what Sam needed at that moment. He may need medical attention, lots of bed rest and medicine, his wounds bad enough to cause serious infection, but more than anything Sam needed his big brother.

Sam needed Dean.

Sam and Dean. She remembered them as a new born baby and a rowdy four year old, two small children who stole her heart as soon as they were introduced to the world. They were the best thing, aside from John, that has ever happened to her and for the small time they spent together as a family was precious moments she wouldn't take anything for.

Mary regretted not being a part of their life. She should have been there, watching them grow, watching as they made a full and happy life doing the things they wanted. To be witness To their teenage years up until they had grey hairs and were old men living to be ninety.

She never wanted them to be a part of hunting.

It hurt alot, to know she couldn't shelter them from it like she had wanted in the beginning but she didn't count on being killed by he yellow eyed demon, to be ripped out of her cozy life as a mother and wife.

Mary knew something was bound to happen because of her desperation to get John back. The demon didn't state what it was he wanted, he didn't need to, knowing that it definitely wasn't anything good, but, her love for John was endless. Seeing him laying so still and dead in her arms was more than enough to make her say yes. Johns skin already turning cold and his skin going pale. She couldn't handle seeing him like that. He was suppose to be alive. They were suppose to get married and have kids and have a long life. Her heart broke and nothing could piece back the pieces unless John was breathing. So it was easy to say yes to the demon when he made her the offer of bringing him back.

She didn't think, didn't hesitate. Her hunter instincts were screaming at her to just kill the demon but her human instincts? They were clawing at her to say yes and have John alive in her arms again. She went with the later, ignoring the fear that crept up her spine. Even the curiosity at what the demon wanted many years later was overshadowed by her need to be with John again.

Was it a mistake?

Mary didn't know but John was revived and her tears flowed and she enveloped him in a bone crushing hug. Nothing else was more important than him being alive with his heart beating against her own chest.

Did she regret it?

Yes and no. She would make that deal over again, no questions asked. She loved John that much. If she had known exactly what the demon wanted in the beginning she would have done things differently. It wasn't her death that she feared, no, it was Sam. After all, it was because of her selfish decision that the demon came for him that night.

Words could never make up for the hell Sam must have endured.

Mary swallowed the lump in her throat. Sam was a mess. His hair was soaked from sweat and stuck to his pale skin. Blood covered his flushed cheeks and most of his clothing. From where she stood, she could also see small tremors wracking his body making him shiver in Deans arms. A ping of sympathy rushed through her at his rough appearance.

Dean used the hand that wasn't supporting his little brothers large frame to check Sam's head, almost reeling back from the heat coming off the kids forehead in waves. "Dammit." He muttered under his breath.

With gentle care, he lifted his sasquatch of a brother up, almost losing balance as Sam's dead weight leaned into him for full support. The last 24 hours had took a toll on Dean. His own body was weighted down by exhaustion and concern, not sleeping the previous night as he frantically searched for any clues on Sam's location. It was constant hours of dead ends and thoughts of whether Sam was okay, if he was hurt, or worse. Him, Mary and Cas looked but always ended up with the same results and question:

 _Where was Sam?_

That was one question Dean could do without.

Throwing one of Sam's long arms around his neck, he used his own arm to wrap around his brothers waist. A person was much heavier when they were unconscious and Sammy was heavy on a regular basis. Now that he was dead weight pressed up against Dean's side he struggled a little more than usual to hold him up.

"Dean. Here, let me," Mary motioned to Sam's unoccupied side and quickly went to help her sons.

Dean's tensed when Mary threw Sam's arm over her shoulders. It was a natural response that he gave whenever anyone came close to Sam. His 'Protect Sammy' notch always hit 'danger' whenever someone touched his littler brother, especially in the state Sam was in. His brother was unconscious and vulnerable with no way of defending himself.

Sure, this was his mother not some stranger or monster that was threatening to hurt Sam. He understood her concern and need to help. It was out of instinct that any mother had for their child. Dean could see the worry shinning in Mary's sapphire orbs, lines forming on her forehead for Sam's safety. Even though Mary has been absent all their life, she easily slid into mother mode and was ready to protect her sons. He could see it in her eyes.

The moment Dean saw her standing in the field was one of the shocking but happiest moments of his life. He never thought he would see her again for obvious reasons. Yet, to his surprize Mary was there. A little confused and with no memories of when she was a spirit and saved them, but she was alive and that's all Dean needed.

All that they both needed.

He relaxed when most of the weight tipped to the other side.

Mary took half of Sam's weight, glancing at Dean when she heard a low sigh come from him. "You okay?" She asked softly, knowing he was barely keeping his composure at seeing Sam so battered.

Dean grunted, not really an answer, though Mary knew it was a 'yes'. "Let's just get Sammy home. Need to take care of him."

Mary smiled in awe at the man Dean had become. He was strong and dependent, clearly someone you didn't want to mess with, without getting a serious beat down. He carried himself with efficiency and effectiveness. Dean was brave but under all the 'badass' bravados' there was a soft side to him as well. Something he had gotten from her, apparently.

It was the love for his little brother.

"Yeah. He needs medical attention." Mary nodded as they started the painful climb up the stairs, pausing when Sam let out a low whimper.

Dean soothed, "I gotcha, Sammy." He looked down and noticed Sam's bandaged foot hit one of the stairs bending it back slightly. "Easy. His foot looks banged up." He threw over to Mary.

She nodded in understanding and glanced down at the swollen foot. The bandaged was quickly being stained with a yellow and red color; blood and infection.

"Come on. Easy does it, lurch." Dean breathed out, his hold fighting, as he started moving forward, this time with even more concern for Sam's injuries. If that was even possible.

Once they reached the top door, Dean looked over to the limp body on the floor. Raising a brow, he turned to his mother in question.

"I knocked her out then followed you down there. You didn't think i'd turn my back on her?" She stated a matter of fact.

Dean smiled, impressed. "Way to go mom." The grin faded with one look at Sam's bloody face. _Hang in there Sam, Cas will fix ya right up._

"Don't worry. He'll be alright." Mary's voice floated past his worried thoughts.

Dean eyes her for a moment. He was about to say something but whatever it had been died on his tongue.

"You Winchesters. You're so naive. You really think he's going to be alright?"

All eyes went to the conscious women of letters who was trying to pick herself off the ground.

Mary, not losing her hold on Sam, grabbed the gun from the safety of her waist and aimed it at her. She was more than ready to pull the trigger after what she had done to her son.

"Just what the hell does that mean?"

Mary looked over to Dean to see the rage swarming in his darkened eyes. She only knew him a few days and already she knew just how scary he could be. At least, when it came to Sam. It was a look that could make a demon tremble in fear and she was glad to not be on the receiving end. She couldn't say as much for the women, though. Only, Toni didn't seem to be moved by it.

Toni managed to get to her feat, a bit unsteadily. Blood smeared the side of her face from Mary's gun being smashed in the side of her face. She was breathing hard but her face remained neutral, seemingly unfazed by Dean's demeanor and murderous glare. "Its gonna get worse. The drug I injected into him? It has three stages. He passed two. Well, by the looks of it he wouldn't have even passed that if not for you two ruining his little suicide attempt." She smirked, amused by the anger in the mans eyes, satisfied by the reaction.

If not for keeping Sam upright, Dean would have lunged for her right then and there but he was more focused on making sure his brother didn't face plant. He was more concerned getting him to safety and taking care of his injuries. They were already wasting more time than they needed too, but his emotions were getting to a dangerously high level. It took everything in him not to kill the crazed women. There was alot Dean Winchester could keep under control. This was not one of them. Sam was hurt, tortured by the women standing in front of him, the women who was smiling in sick fascination at Dean's expression. Her taunting voice trying to break what little composure he had left.

He had to focus. Something she said caught his attention. "Three stages of what?" He demanded with authority, worry for his brother leaking through to the surface.

Mary also wore an uneasy expression, Toni's words registering in her mind along with their meaning. "Just what is the third stage?"

Toni switched her unyielding gaze to Mary. "He called you 'mom'. You're Mary Winchester? You're suppose to be dead."

Mary scrunched her eyes together in confusion. "How do you-"

Dean interrupted her. "Lets just call it a little gratitude gift from Gods sister. Now are you going to tell me what you did to Sam?"

Toni actually looked confused at the new information but none the less, dropped the subject on Mary. "The three stages. First is hallucinations. Trust me. He had plenty of those." She smiled.

Dean winced. Hallucinations was something his brother knew on a clear basis. Sam had them for months after his soul was brought back from the cage. Lucifer being the number one image he saw awake or asleep and even though his brother managed to fall under into a slumber Lucifer always tormented his mind and he awoke as quick as he fell asleep. Often times screaming for Dean, or in a cold sweat with a look of hopelessness and loss on his face. Dean was also there at his side every time trying to sooth away those invisible fears. Usually anything coming close to terrorizing Sam Dean would just get rid of it with a icy stare and a bullet but hallucinations were one thing that Dean could not destroy no matter how much he wanted to.

They got rid of the devil, but he still had a firm grip on Sam.

Fortunately, thanks to Cas Sam was spared any more pain from the fallen angel. Dean hadn't been more thankful even if he did feel bad for Cas. He had reversed the effect and instead of Sam seeing Lucifer it was Cas.

Sam was better and no longer in looney land.

Dean side-glanced at Sam, a feeling of helplessness making it's self known.

Sam's face was visibly pained. His eyebrows came slightly together as if he was stuck in a nightmare and sweat still glistened on his forehead. He needed to get Sam to the bunker. It was obvious that he was in a great amount of pain even if he wasn't conscious. Dean had a sinking feeling that Sam was seeing things in his subconscious that were anything but comforting.

Toni's voice knocked him from his deep thoughts. "Second stage. Well you should know. His sanity was put to the test. All it took was one thing to break him. Don't exactly know what considering you Winchesters' have a long list of guilt eating at you."

Mary blinked. Her chest felt unbearably tight. A part of her knew the women was telling the truth. Whenever she looked at Dean, whenever she met his gaze, she could see it. The look of someone who's been through too much, who has seen too much. As guarded as her son tried to be, it didn't go past her seeing eyes because she just knew. Her boys have been put through more than anyone ever should. She didn't know what and wasn't sure she wanted to know, but it was something that made her chest ache in sympathy.

A new voice startled them all. "This is a mess."

Dean turned his attention to the door to find a man, along with Cas standing there. "Cas? I thought the house was warded."

The man answered, "Oh it was but I undid them. I am sorry about what happened. It seems one of our subordinates went about without our regards. She will be punished." The man stated looking disappointingly at her then looked back at the Winchesters. "I assure you that we are on the same side."

Toni was looking down at the floor, resigned.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Right, because torturing those on the same side is just a fun kick." Dean tightened his hold on Sam, recalling how they tortured and tried to break his brother. Tried, or probably did, Dean hoped for the earlier.

He smiled. "I could have easily came here fully undetected and killed you without a second thought. Yet, I didn't and even brought down the warding's so your angel could come in." He gestured to Cas, who eyed him wearily.

"So, you'll let us walk out of here. No tricks, and what about her?" Mary asked, her hand tightening on the gun she still had pointed at Toni. "What about Sam? What is the third stage?"

"Yes. You're free to go. As for Toni, we will punish her for what she's done. It seems she used a powerful drug that was fused with witch craft. If its the one im familiar with, the third stage would be dream state hallucinations." He answered easily.

"Dream state hallucinations?" Mary repeated in confusion.

"Yes. It's a way to break down the individuals mind with memories that can easily tear them apart."

Both Mary's and Dean's breath hitched.

"I'm sorry." He said again with a little sympathy.

"How about you leave her here and she'll get her punishment." Dean said. It wasn't a question but more of a statement, words spoken with venom.

"I cant. She's ours. As I said, you are free to go." With that said, the man used his finger and signaled Toni to come to him.

Toni sighed and walked over to him without protest, giving one hateful glance to them before walking out of the house following him.

Cas was at their side in an instant, already taking in Sam's bloody form. "Is he alive?" He asked.

"Yeah. Barely. I swear, if I ever see her again," Dean left the threat unfinished and instead focused his attention back on Sam. "Can you get us back to the bunker?"

"My grace isn't fully replenished but I should be able to get us back and take care of most Sam's injuries." Cas confirmed placing both fingers to Dean's and Mary's foreheads and proceeded in taking them to the place they now called home.


	6. Promo

Hey guys! So sorry, I have been worried bout class and trying to study an what not so I haven't had time to really write anything! So, imma give you this Promo, an idea given to me by the fanfic author- _**Aymen**_ Ya should totes go read their stories! They are radical!

Anyway, I've also decided this story will be more than one more chapter. We're gonna have some fun with Sam and Dean for a bit. I'll try to update soon. Promises! I also wanna thanks all of you guys who have read, favorited, followed or reviewed this fic! Many loved from Kat 3

* * *

 _ **(Promo)**_

* * *

The darkness, it surrounded him. It developed him in a black abyss, wrapping around him like a veil. His body was heavy and he could feel the harsh tremors traveling throughout his arms, legs and torso. Even his veins throbbed mercifully under his skin followed by a burning sensation. It was as if he was chained down because his limbs refused to cooperate and he found himself unable to even lift a finger. It felt like a hundred ton was pressing against him to keep him in place.

When he was able to open his eyes? He immediately wish he hadn't.

* * *

( **In Sam's room** )

( **Dean** )

"Sam, he's going through whatever the hell this is, alone and let me tell you I have been here before. I didn't like it."

( **Scene- Dean is standing beside the bed that held an unconscious Sam, Castiel at the foot of the bed**.)

( **Cas** )

"His mind, it's trapped. He's reliving his past memories." Cas realized, looking at Dean with helpless eyes.

( **Mary** )

"So what do we do?" Mary asked walking into the room, having heard what the angel said.

Silence.

A determined look overtakes Dean's expression and he looks at Cas with serious eyes.

( **Dean** )

"Dream root."

* * *

-Different Scene-

( **Sam** )

"Where am I and why are you here? You're suppose to be dead." He's in a barn, a familiar building he's been in before and he's tied to a chair, his arm broke and of no use.

Just like before.

"You see, Sammy. Your brother? He's a monster."

* * *

-Different Scene-

( **Dean** )

He finds himself in the impala driving to who knows where. It's where he ended up after taking the dream root.

Somehow, it looks too familiar.

* * *

-Different Scene-

( **Dean** )

"Sam? Hey, listen, it's me? Okay? I'm here and i'm me. Ya gotta believe me." Dean tries to sooth his confused and terrified brother fears.

Sam stares at him, gun drawn up, eyes wide and fearful. He's staring at Dean as if he didn't even recognize him.

One moment, he was seeing Dean, with black eyes and now? Those eyes were a gentle green.

* * *

-Different Scene-

( **Mary** )

Starring at a unconscious Dean, she asks, "How do we know this is going to work?"

( **Cas** )

"We don't.


End file.
